


A Merger of Equals

by windlefin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Office Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, finances! oh boy!, wall street au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windlefin/pseuds/windlefin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NYC 1987. Kylo Ren enjoyed the life of a top notch employee at First Order & Co, one of the most powerful banking corporations in the world, until CEO Snoke demands he works on a highly illegal operation with Hux- cold, calculating but unfortunately attractive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Merger of Equals

In the spring of 1987, Kylo Ren appeared on the cover of Forbes Magazine. Posed with a one hand gripping the other wrist, wide shoulders accentuated by the padding in his tailored Armani suit (a dark grey color with white pinstripes guiding the eye down his body- a look the photographer had deemed to be “commanding and bold”). They had lathered his hair with gel for the shoot, swept back and tied in a low bun. Head tilted down slightly, lips pressed together, looking like the kind of person he never thought he’d be. 

Currently, Kylo sat with his feet draped across the desk, ankles crossed over one another. He ran his thumb across the glossy cover smiling to himself: a small, cocky smile, the left corners of his mouth just barely turning up, accompanied by a satisfied puff of air from his nostrils. 

At nearly thirty two years old, he counted it as his most important accomplishment yet. Not only did this issue name him one of the “New Rising Stars of Wall Street”, but it was a public victory - his face would be on every newsstand in the United States. Maybe the news would even reach his hometown. Maybe the old man who worked at the general store in his hometown would recognize his face while stacking the magazine rack, perhaps he would remember the young boy who bought a strawberry ice cream cone every weekend. Maybe even his parents would glance at the cover and see something familiar in his features, a distant memory of a lost son.

He still remembered the day he stepped off that bus sixteen years ago, and traced the buildings up to the sky until his neck bent back, overcome by the grandeur of the Big Apple. Everything seemed so large back then. And now- he sat in a private office on the sixty sixth floor of a skyscraper in the very center of New York City’s bustling financial district, holding a magazine with his face on it - the people walking below looked like ants.

“Mr. Ren, sir.” A voice interrupted his train of thought. He looked up to see a small dark-haired man with ears that dipped a little too low to be properly proportional to his face standing at his desk.

“Mitaka. I’ve told you to knock before coming into my office.” Kylo said sternly, putting down the magazine. There was nothing quite like being incessantly cruel to his subordinates; He found something deeply satisfactory in how he flinched at the slightest change in tone of voice, how he trembled in his off-brand suit that pleased Kylo at his very core. It was the little people like Mitaka, who made him feel important. 

“The door was open, sir.” His assistant said, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously.

“I’ve told you to knock.” Kylo reiterated. 

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” His assistant mumbled, eyes cast down at the ground. He handed Kylo a piece of paper, folded in half. “You’ve received a fax from Mr. Snoke.” 

Then, he swiftly turned towards the door. 

“Mitaka.” Kylo warned in a mocking tone, drawing out each vowel, reaching into his inner suit pocket and withdrawing a cigar with a deliberate flick of his wrist. The man in question turned his head back cautiously. 

“Yes, sir?”

The investment banker paused for a moment, preoccupied by the flicker of his lighter catching on the cigar. The tip began to blacken, the thick outer leaf curling slightly as the smell of an old barnyard - damp and earthy - emanating from the tightly rolled leaves. He brought it up to his mouth and drew in the smoke. 

“Have this framed and hung in my office.” Kylo said, smoke pouring from his mouth as he spoke. He pushed the Forbes across his desk. Mitaka peeled it off the wooden surface, wide eyes swimming with an expression which teetered neatly between respect and fear, and left the office without another word.

Kylo unfolded the fax, which read:

_Kylo Ren-_

_Visit Vice President Hux re: the “Finalizer”. All will be explained upon your arrival._

_Snoke, CEO_

Hux had joined First Order & Co five years ago, during the acquisition of a small yet powerful investment firm named Empire Inc, and Snoke - apparently impressed by Hux’s credentials- named him the new Vice President of FO&CO. Kylo had experienced the displeasure of meeting him on a few occasions, mostly corporate get-togethers and formal galas. He recalled seeing Hux mingling in the crowd dressed in a well-tailored tuxedo at the company Christmas party last year, glass of scotch in hand, posture straight and red hair slicked back, shaking hands and making nice with people. Snoke had urged him to greet Hux, and so he had made his way across the banquet hall to introduce himself.

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard of you. What do you do at this company exactly?” Hux had responded in a tone so unpleasant and pompous that Kylo initially thought he had said something offensive or improper. But after a minute of conversation, he put the pieces together: Hux was simply an elitist dick. 

With a puff from his cigar, Kylo swung his legs off the desk. It was time to pay the vice president a visit. 

Though Kylo’s rank at the company was in all technicality not much higher than most other investors in the firm, being Snoke’s favorite had many advantages, including a private office on the same floor as all the corporate bigwigs, making Hux’s office just a short trip down the hall. 

It was located in the southwest corner of the building. As the only office on the sixty sixth floor with a double door entry and a private restroom, it was guarded by Hux’s secretary and assistant, Mr.Finn. 

One did not contact Hux directly. Instead, all calls were directed to Mr. Finn’s infamous extension number, 2187, wherefrom Hux decided if they were worth dealing with personally.

“Is Mr. Hux in?” Kylo asked upon approaching the young man’s desk, chewing on the end of his cigar.

Mr. Finn picked up the phone, it’s long curly cord dragging behind. 

“Mr. Kylo Ren is here to see you now.” He said, looking up at Kylo with dark eyes, as if asking permission to speak his name.

“Mr. Hux is ready for you now.” The assistant said.

Kylo pushed open the doors with open palms. The entire right wall of the office consisted of floor to ceiling windows, looking out on the various structures of stone and glass that made up Manhattan, filling the room with an distortion of natural light, reflected from bulging to building before it made it's way into the Vice President's office. A large bookshelf, housing what Kylo recognized as various tomes of financial manuals stood on the opposite side of the room.

Kylo’s eyes were drawn to Hux himself, seated in a black leather chair with a tall back (the larger the chair, the more powerful the man, as the Wall Street mantra went), a diploma from Harvard Business School hanging above him in a custom frame. He sat with his hands clasped together on the surface of the desk, the fabric of his loose, tan suit jacket (with pleated pants to match) folding softly in the creases of his arms, the edges of his brand-name suspenders peeking out from underneath his lapels. 

“Mr. Kylo Ren.” The man said, rising from his seat and extending his hand in a way so that Kylo had to lean over the desk to shake it. Power play, he recognized instantly.

Hux’s hands were long and thin, the bones in the back of his hand protruding thick wires, yet the palms of his hands were milky soft.

“A pleasure to see you again.” He said dryly.

Two could play at this game.

“What’s the A stand for?” Kylo asked, gesturing to the custom gold nameplate standing at the head of the desk, declaring “A. HUX-VICE PRESIDENT”. 

“Just Hux will do.” A snarl covered with a smile.

A silence in the air surfaced between them, and for a moment they both stood with eyes locked.

“Snoke sent me to speak with you.” Kylo said, quickly shifting his eyes around the room and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yes.” Hux replied, and gestured to a chair. “Please, have a seat.” 

Hux settled into back into his chair, and pursed his lips momentarily, as if preparing to deliver bad news. 

“The situation is complex.” He said. “I run a company called “Finalizer”, which produces high-tech equipment for space shuttles. We’re currently supported by over four hundred investors, mostly foreign, with the average investor contributing around a hundred thousand each month. The return rate is around 10%”

Hux fell silent for a moment, resting his face against clasped hands. His eyes seemed to emptily drift towards the window. Inhaling deeply, he continued.

“The company is a scam. There is no factory making space shuttles. ” He continued. “ After a month or two, investors find our phone number has been ‘disconnected’ and my associates and I walk away with seventy thousand dollars per investor. The 10% return was of their own money.”

“I know what a Ponzi scheme is.” Kylo grimaced, gesturing dismissively with his cigar. “I might not have gone to some fancy school-”

“Just covering all my bases.” Hux interrupted, waving the smoke away with a quick hand. “Snoke has caught wind of my operation. He will allow me to continue it, if and only if you become involved on his behalf and split a portion of the profits. In addition, you and I acquire some inside information on the New Republic Corporation and pass it along to him.”

“So you’re asking for my help?” Kylo asked with a small chuckle. 

“Asking? Oh no. These are direct orders from Snoke.” Hux said, eyebrows raised in satisfaction. “Isn’t it true you’ll do whatever he says?”

“What exactly are you implying?” Kylo sneered, leaning over the desk. 

Hux rose from his chair and with a sense of deliberation in his step, walked around the desk and sat on the edge, his crotch now inches away from Kylo’s nose. 

“Your relationship seems a little close to be purely professional, don’t you think?” He asked. It was no secret that Snoke favored Kylo more than anyone else in the company, which of course had given birth to a few rumors. 

Hux truly had the upper hand. Now, to look him in the eye, Kylo would have to turn his head upwards. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kylo said, an internal panic racketing inside his chest as he watched a slender shape emerge from in the fabric of the vice president’s trousers. He bit his lip. 

“Those are just, uh -” He stammered, a simultaneous feeling of hot and cold shivers building in his stomach, coming from deep within. 

“Is something distracting you?” Hux asked, deadpanned. 

“No” 

“Then look me in the eye.” Hux said under his breath.

Hux reached out and took the cigar from Kylo’s grip and took a drag, eyelids sliding over his deep green eyes for a moment, the slightest traces of emerging crow’s feet present on his skin. 

He extinguished the cigar in the glass ashtray on his desk. The warm rays of sun shone through the snaking remains of smoke, disappearing into the air. 

“It’s an unfortunate that I find you attractive, Kylo Ren, considering how insufferable you are.” Hux said as he slid his hand under Kylo’s chin, pulling it up firmly. 

Kylo opened his mouth to ask what Hux thought he was doing- but oh, he knew. And so his lips hung open.The other man’s thumb ran across his mouth, and pulled it down gently. 

They locked eyes, trancelike; a wordless agreement to make a bad decision. 

Kylo felt his chest tense up - everything felt as if it were simultaneously moving slow motion and going too far too fast. He found his neck involuntarily craning to reach the other man’s lips. His hands found their way to the back of Hux’s neck, pulling him down.

Their lips touched slowly at first, experimental, testing the waters of the new encounter.  
And then-suddenly, a in mess of hands and lips and frantic unbuttoning Kylo found himself pressed against the cool wooden surface of the desk, pants at his ankles. He thought of how foolish he must look from afar, bent over a desk in his dress shoes and expensive socks, pale legs exposed. 

He heard the sharp click of a plastic bottle cap open behind him, a zipper, a crinkle of fabric; watching the monitor on the desk flickering with green text, mouth opening involuntarily as Hux rubbed lube into his body.

He began to rock his hips back and forth onto the tip of Hux’s cock, until Hux held him steady and pushed into him, the vice president’s thin fingers digging into his hips with each movement.

His grip on the desk tightened as Hux moved with an increasing speed and roughness, face twisting in pleasure: nose scrunched up, mouth hanging open, breath hitching each time Hux thrust into him, eyes wide watching the world outside through the window and taking an odd pleasure in the the fact that in a way, they were exposed, though it was doubtful that anyone could actually see them. 

“Harder.” Kylo moaned. 

He was no stranger to casual hookups: most nights Kylo could be found at “Cantina”, a gay nightclub on the lower west side, a small cellar of a club overflowing with men of every age and caliber. At least a few nights a week he woke up to a someone sneaking out of his bed, hustling to get up in time for work in the morning. Other times, he woke tangled in a stranger's body, a unknown scent lingering in foreign sheets. He hoped to God that the secretary behind the doors couldn’t hear them. 

Hux grabbed his hair, long fingers tangling in silky black strands, inciting a small yelp. After a moment, he came silently, save for a few grunts through gritted teeth. 

“What are you doing Saturday?” He said, out of breath.

“What?”

“Let’s do lunch.” Hux said as he pulled out with a groan. “Hubert’s on 5th avenue. Have you been?”

“Of course.”

“Fine. We’ll work out the situation with New Republic then” 

Kylo peeled himself from the desk, tucked his shirt back into his pleated suit and sheepishly pat down his hair, now sweaty and matted, and began the walk of shame back to his office.

“I’ll see you then. I have work to do.” Hux said, walking back around the desk. He wore a satisfied smile on his face, but there was a depth within his eyes that conveyed a sense of desperation.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this weird project for a while now, mostly through drawings, which you can find on my [tumblr!](http://windlefin.tumblr.com/tagged/wallstreet%20au)


End file.
